


Respective Endearments

by VintProtectionSquad



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, For a split second, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:20:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VintProtectionSquad/pseuds/VintProtectionSquad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I…you…really feel that way about me?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respective Endearments

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please tell me if there's something I need to correct.

The moment the word slips from his mouth I do nothing but stare, wide eyes filled with shock and slight disbelief as his own expression falters. He must not have known that I speak Tevene, because he almost looks panicked.

“I…you…really feel that way about me?” I ask, unable to really believe that Dorian Pavus, a silver-tongued Tevinter altus, can think of me, a blundering Vashoth rogue, in a romantic light for even a moment. He seems to compose himself very quickly, though I think- or hope, rather- that he’s still caught off guard.

“Would I have said so if I felt otherwise?” he responds, arms crossing over his chest loosely. Is he…actually nervous? “In any case, shall we take this up to your quarters? That is what you were originally asking, after all.” For a moment I say nothing, but then my body reacts with a nod of my head, and I wordlessly follow him as he moves past me to descend the steps leading to Solas’ study. I nod in acknowledgment to the elder elf as we pass, and he does the same, but I can feel his gaze on us even as we pass through the door leading to the main hall. Even more eyes fall on us as we pass through the crowd of people, and I can't help the slight rise of my shoulders as they watch, most likely disapproving of my being with an “evil Tevinter magister”. However, before I know it I feel Dorian's hand on my arm, then he pulls me past the door leading to my room and shuts it with a decent _thud_.

“I know how you feel about those pretentious fools. T'is a shame that we can't just kick them out and say 'too bad, so sad',” he rambles as he continues to lead on, hand still wrapped around my forearm gently. I smile to myself at the notion that he truly is a mild soul once he's comfortable enough to show himself, and I wonder for a moment how many others have seen this side to him.

“Look, Julian, I admit, this isn't easy for me to do. I'm a little...rusty, for a lack of a better term, when it comes to anything this intimate.” He stops at the center of the room before turning to face me properly, his expression reflecting his tone of voice. “ I wasn't aware that you knew what that meant, and it makes me wonder how much more of my native tongue you understand.” I twist my arm to relieve it of his grasp before gingerly taking his hand in my own.

"Well, I know how to speak it relatively fluently, I think, since most of your people seem surprised whenever I open my mouth. Must not think that a big, scary, Qunari-looking guy would know how to speak their sophisticated language so seamlessly,” I joke, and he snorts lightly in response.

“Yes, well, my countrymen do have a habit of thinking of your lot as barbarians, considering we've been at war on and off for a while now.” I hum as I brush my thumb across the back of his hand, and I notice that the other flexes restlessly. “Jules, I truly meant it. I care for you very deeply, and I chose to use that word because I do feel that way about you. Very much so, actually. It's kind of worrisome, to be honest.” I can't help but to laugh at that, and he smiles while gazing down at our connected hands.

“Since you use that for me, may I use one of my own for you?” I ask once my mirth resides, and he nods before looking up expectantly.

“I'm going to take a guess that it won't be in Qunlat,” he answers, to which I shake my head.

“No Qunlat from me. It's...Elvish, actually. I picked it up while traveling with Àrbol's clan.” He tilts his head, waiting for me to go on. “...ma vhenan'ara. My heart's desire,” I say quietly, and his eyes widen momentarily.

“You...you big sap, you're doing this on purpose,” he accuses as his hand tightens around mine, and I smile as I step closer, stooping a bit to kiss him chastely.

“Maybe I am,” I grin when I pull back, and he has a similar look on his own face.

“Festis bei umo canavarum, amatus.”

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who don't know, that last sentence translates to "You will be the death of me, beloved."  
> Anyways, here's my big baby Vashoth who's crushin' on Dorian pretty damn hard. He speaks Tevene, Elvish, Orlesian, and the common tongue (obviously). I find it funny that he doesn't know Qunlat, though.


End file.
